You are, you are a whispering campaign
by co2lneededzs
Summary: She doesn't like doctors or hospitals, and those two boys are the only reason she's there. She's been drinking a lot, that's the only reason her hands are shaking. Nothing else. (continuation of Ballad of Mona Lisa) eponinexenjolrasxcombeferre


She's nervous as they enter the doctor's office. Combeferre had been bugging her for weeks, telling her that the tremors in her hand aren't natural, and she shouldn't just ignore them. She brushed him off; telling him it was just stress, that she's fine, that there is nothing wrong with her. He didn't look completely convinced, but he had nodded anyway, and let the subject drop. In the end, it wasn't Combeferre that gets her to go to the doctor, but it's Enjolras, who came home from class one day to find her lying on the ground in her work uniform. He had helped her up, holding on to her shaky hands, and had called her boss first, and then the nearest clinic. He hung up and looked at her, trembling on the couch, before he had run his hand through his hair and went to sit beside her. He held her hand in his and told her that she was going to the appointment, and that was that. She had nodded and rested her head on his shoulder. She regrets it now, sitting in the clean white of the doctor's office, the smell of chemical permeating the space. She grips Combeferre's hand tightly, trying to will her own to stop shaking, as he rubs circles on the top with his thumb. She smiles at him and draws a shaky breath. Even though she wishes Enjolras could be with them, she knows that he would be no good for her nerves. Having Combeferre by her side for this is the best thing for all of them.

It's been twenty minutes since the doctor left to get the test results, and she's still gripping Combeferre's hand so tightly that it has him shifting in his seat. She's trying not to look at the door so often, distracting herself with the various degrees on this doctor's wall. Combeferre is stroking circles into the skin of her hand and she's reminding herself to breathe. When the door clicks open ten minutes later, she jolts forward, startled, and Combeferre's hand is at her back, and he is whispering reassurances in her ear, so she smiles at the doctor, and quips "What's up, Doc?"

Combeferre groans and the doctor gives her a pressed smile, like he's heard that joke a million times (which he probably has, but she doesn't care). When she sees the smile fall quickly from his face, she gets nervous again, and her hands start shaking. She tells herself it's just the nerves getting to her. That's why her hands are shaking. Only it's not. Deep down inside, she knows something is wrong, and the doctor confirms this. She stops listening after he says Parkinson's. She just stares at her shaky hands and wills them to stop. If they stop shaking, then she's okay, then the disease that's been building inside her isn't actually there, and everything can go back to normal. Except it can't. She can't get the shaking to stop, no matter what she tries. She can see Combeferre nodding along with the doctor, who is rambling out something about this hideous parasite that's living in her brain. She sits in a state of shock for the rest of the appointment. She vaguely aware of the men shaking hands, and then Combeferre guiding her out of the office, through the lobby and into her car. She is focusing on her stupid, shaking hands the entire drive to the apartment. If she focuses on the shaking, she won't cry. She doesn't want to cry. Crying would make her seem weak, like a child, like someone who needs to be taken care of. She doesn't need to be taken care of.

They're at the door when he tugs on her arm. Her eyes snap to his, and the clears his throat. "Enjolras… Do you…" She closes her eyes briefly before answering him. "I'll tell him. I've got to get used to telling people anyway. Why not start with him?"

Combeferre nods and turns the key, holding the door for her to step trough. The second she steps through the door she can tell Enjolras has been nervous, probably more nervous than her. His hair is disheveled, like he's been running his hands through it, over and over. He's been pacing the entire time they've been gone. He's stopped now, gone still in the middle of the room. She offers him a weak smile as Combeferre nudges her forward as he steps in and shuts the door behind him. Enjolras looks like he's going to tear his hair out, so she clears her throat. "Well, it's not just because I've been drinking too much."

He looks almost murderous and she can't help but really smile at him because she loves to get him all worked up. "I have Parkinson's, Enj."

His eyes meet Combeferre's, desperation evident. She can tell he hopes that she's just winding him up again, making him worry. He's hoping she's fine, only she's not. She's going to die. It might take a while, but her brain has decided to turn on her, and she can't stop it. She watches the little bit of hope he has get snuffed out by Combeferre's nod. He licks his lips, and his eyes dart around the room. She chuckles humorlessly. "How long," he asks. "How long does she have?" He isn't addressing it to her, because he knows them both so well. He knows she didn't listen to a word the doctor said, and he knows that Combeferre took all of it in, absorbing it like a sponge. Combeferre shakes his head.

"They don't know yet. She's going to have to go in for more tests, and they're going to have to determine the best course of action. In the end, it's all Ep's decision. There are several different treatments, surgeries, pills, that sort of thing. It'll all end the same though. They don't have a cure for Parkinson's yet, they only have things to prolong it. I can call Joly, and he'll be able to explain it better…."

At this, she snaps. "Don't tell anyone yet." Both men look at her. She presses her lips together. "I don't want anyone to know just yet. I want to give it a few days to sink in, and then we'll tell everyone." She bites back a sob, and closes her eyes for a second. She can feel both of them pressing closer to her, Combeferre resting his hand on her shoulder, and Enjolras cupping her face. She smiles at them. "I'm fine. Just a little worked up. I'm fine."

She sees them exchange worried looks over her head, and she exhales through her nose. "I'm fine. Honestly, truly, fine. I promise." Only she's not.


End file.
